Shelter
by vddie
Summary: Isaac was shy, clumsy, and timid. Until one day he wasn't, and Fallon couldn't help but notice the new darkness in his blue eyes. Her whole world had almost completely built around him, and she constantly wondered if he'd be the one to tear it apart too. Isaac/OC
1. Infinity

**AN:** First chapter of my first Isaac fanfiction. The title is inspired by the xx song 'Shelter'

It takes place during season 1, so it will show Isaac pre-bite, and will progress in correspondence to how the actual seasons do. Of course, there will be changes, as this is involving original characters and story lines. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

_Could you tell,_

_I was left lost and lonely?_

_Could you tell,_

_Things ain't worked out my way?_

Today wasn't any different than yesterday, or last week, or tomorrow, or next month. Today I would roll out of bed, I'd yawn, I'd crack my back, I'd unlock my phone for any messages I got while I was unconscious. There never was any.

I'd rub my eyes, yawn again, and continue lying in bed for an hour. Maybe I'd decide to get up and wash off all the filth I accumulated while rolling around in my sheets. I'd make sure the water was hot enough to sting a little bit, and after 30 minutes of standing in the rising steam I'd get out, drying my body off with the towel I used yesterday. I'd brush my teeth. I'd comb my hair.

It was routine, branded into my brain when I realized that every morning was not like Christmas, and I wouldn't wake up to half eaten cookies and presents wrapped in green paper, begging to be ripped to shreds and then tossed aside for the next shiny thing I saw.

High school was definitely not Christmas. Maybe it was the first day of freshman year, maybe it will be the last day senior year. But I was a sophomore, I was stuck in the days after Christmas where the lights looked insipid, the balls of wrapping paper littered on my living room rug made me want to vomit, and the peanut butter fudge my grandma had made tasted like dog shit.

For some people, high school wasn't half bad. Some people woke up with a twinkle in their eye, with a hop in their step, ready to accompany their friends as they breezed through classes and gossiped about what _that_ girl is wearing and about who _that_ boy lost his virginity to. I was not one of those people. I don't mean that in a, "I'm so unique, I hate high school, everybody, look at me I read and I listen to classic rock! I'm better than everybody! Ha!" I really actually honestly hated high school, and the way it would make my clothes itchy, and made me feel like my hair was too frizzy.

Today, I woke up. I took a shower. I washed my hair with shampoo and conditioner, I shaved my legs from the knee down, I brushed my teeth while I was in there to save a little time, and I stood there for a solid fifteen minutes longing over the fact that I was dreading going to a new high school. High school was bad enough already, but it was a serial killer horror movie when you didn't know anybody there, and I didn't want to be the stupid girl who screamed too soon and got her throat slit in front of her boyfriend and best friend she had dragged along on a remote camping trip. I wanted to graduate, and if going through Beacon Hills High School without being acknowledged made it any less painful, then so be it.

* * *

The little things he noticed about her is what made her more desirable than any other girl giggling and flipping their hair through the halls. He shouldn't have noticed her first. Most people notice the girl that has put every fiber of their being into looking good that day, he should look at them, they worked hard for it, they deserved it. But he was looking right at her.

She was wearing a heather grey v neck that showed part of her sternum, but was still as modest as a v neck could get and covered every inch of cleavage he undoubtedly knew was there. She had a dainty gold necklace on, with a thin gold chain, and a small lion pendant weighing it down. Her hair was natural and loose, she had almost black hair that was crazy and curly and nearly swallowed her thin body whole. Her jeans were always skinny, dark denim, and fit her small legs gorgeously. They bunched up at the bottom, she could only be a couple inches above five feet, and were met with the tops of bright sunflower yellow converse.

It was her face that drew him in, or maybe it was her presence, he wasn't sure. But her olive toned skin that was dotted with freckles along her nose and apples of her cheeks were like magnets, almost forcing him to be attracted to her, to want to get to know her. Her eyes were a light shade of minty green, the kind that made you stare. They were outlined with strong black lashes, making them stand out even more. Her lips were pale pink, a gorgeous contrast to her naturally darker skin.

Every day she would pass through the halls undetected, much like himself, but she didn't seem to mind as much as she did. At lunch, he would look over at her reading a yellowing book, or writing her own thoughts into the tattered spiral notebook she carried with her at all times. It was black, and had yellow retro-style daisies on the front, the corners of the cover dog-eared. Even though the cafeteria was filled with the continuous white noise of couples fighting, silverware clinking against pale blue plastic trays, and people shouting from table to table, she never seemed to look up. It was one of the many things that made him admire her, made him want to get to know her a bit better.

He didn't know much about her. He knew her name, Fallon, but only because it was announced on the first day of school. He looked it up the night he found out about it. It was of Irish and Gaelic origin, and its definition was, "Superiority; descended from a ruler."

She mostly wore t-shirts and hoodies, but sometimes she'd come to school in a loose sweater that draped elegantly over her shoulders. It could probably fit three of her inside it. On those days, she'd wear her hair in a giant bun on the back of her head, and he liked watching throughout the day as one by one, thick, dark curls would fall loose.

She used a Milk & Honey Nivea lip balm, and liked to wear rings on her thumb, and the only earrings he saw her wear were large pearl studs. She used a pen with bright pink ink for her notes, she always sat criss cross applesauce in her chair, she never painted her nails, and she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life.

* * *

It was October, and she sat in her assigned seat in Mr. Harris' room, looking out of the large window at the golden autumn trees that seemed to go on for miles. She was in a daze, studying how a single leaf could hold so many shades of yellow, red, orange, and green, and still blend beautifully in with the rest of the landscape. It took Mr. Harris slamming his pointer repeatedly against the space of black plastic tabletop right in front of her face for her to realize that she was in _class._

"I know you hate my class and all, but would it kill you to look ahead, at least?" The strict teacher she had grown to not like very much, wet his lips and peered above his thick black rimmed glasses. He opened his mouth, preparing to speak again.

"Lahey is going to sit beside you from now on, since you're both without a partner. Try not to catch each other on fire."

A tall, somewhat lanky boy looked at her with a curious, timid nature in his eyes, as if he was unsure whether or not she'd _actually_ catch him on fire. Trying to dismiss his obvious fear towards her, she patted the bright orange chair beside her and gave a little, itty bitty, hint of a smile. He pushed his hair in place and sat down.

"I'm Fallon, and I solemnly swear not to pour acid on you, light you on fire, or cut you with a scalpel while in this classroom."

He gave a one sided smile, the kind that usually oozes sex appeal, but on him it looked innocent and playful.

"What about outside the classroom?"

"I make no promises," she shifted her eyes to look at him, and the light pink his cheeks had turned gave a boyish presence to his sharp jawline and strong cheekbones. He had blue topaz eyes, and his hair was right in the middle of dark blonde and light brown. He looked a lot older than a sophomore in high school, he towered above 6 feet, and had wide, broad shoulders that made him look like a football player, if Beacon Hills even _had_ a football team. The school was relatively small for California.

"I apologize in advance, though," the boy spoke softly, and tapped his pen against the desk rapidly.

"And why would that be, Mr. Lahey?" She did a joking imitation of Mr. Harris, to show the shy boy she wasn't that scary.

"Chemistry isn't really my forte, I must admit," He looked down as he spoke, shame showing in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, I'm no science genius either. I'm not a genius in anything really, so it's cool! No worries." She spoke with a warm tone, like melted chocolate, every word oozing off of her lips like she was born to say that exact combination of letters. The boy turned a bit pink again, and rested his chin onto the palm of his hand, his curls bouncing as he shifted to look at her.

"So, you and Stiles, huh? You two seem pretty close," She wasn't sure if he was making a statement or asking her question.

"Yeah! He's great, really sweet, really funny. He and his dad have helped me a lot since I got here, maneuvering the town and all. They told me about Aunt Mae's diner."

"You go to Aunt Mae's?" the boy perked up, almost like a dog does when you entertain the idea of going on a walk by swinging the leash in front of his eager eyes. "I love it there, seriously, _the _best apple pie in town."

"I agree, definitely. If you stay later at night it clears out, and is really quiet and calm. I do my homework there, I get too distracted anywhere else." She smiled at him, placing her index and middle finger nonchalantly on his forearm. He flinched, as if he was doing something he wasn't supposed to and suddenly realized it.

The rest of the class went by in silence, except for Mr. Harris repeating directly from the purple textbook in a monotonous manner. Fallon singled out the noise of the ticking clock, counting the seconds as they _tick, ticked_ away, for the remainder of the day before the shrill noise of the bell dismissed them for the rest of the day. She promised she'd meet up with Stiles after school to go to In 'n' Out Burger with him, a new Monday tradition. It wasn't healthy in any aspect for her, but it tasted great, and that was all that mattered.

"Stilinski!" She called after him, the skinny brunette whipping his head around as she jogged towards him.

"I was thinking the double cheeseburger with a strawberry milkshake." He gripped onto his backpack straps, excitedly running off to his jeep.

"I'll get the same thing, but with a vanilla milkshake, I think if I have another strawberry one I'll vomit pure pink."

"Right before we eat, yes thank you, lovely, that really geared up my appetite." Stiles hopped into the driver's sit, ramming the keys into the ignition and fluffing his hair up into its bedhead 'do. She searched through Stiles' CD collection, picking out the Dude Ranch Blink 182 album, quickly skipping ahead to Dick Lips, her favorite of the track list.

"Have you talked to Scott lately?" Fallon asked, because she knew that Scott was spending a lot of time with Allison, and it made Stiles angry to the core.

"Ha! You're funny, that's really funny, you've got a lot of jokes. I _might _talk to him if Allison didn't consume every last thought he had in his little pea brain. Literally, even if I did talk to him, it would be 'Ally this, Ally that, blah blah blah, I'm in love, Ally, I love Ally, Ally' and do you really think I want to deal with that? Absolutely not." Stiles continued on a rant, but she looked out of the window and zoned out, looking at the red and yellow trees blurring together along the side of the road, thinking about how shy the boy Isaac had been today. Maybe everyday, she didn't know, she hadn't paid much attention to him until Mr. Harris had put them together for classwork.

"Do you know a boy named Isaac?"

"I know of about 12 Isaacs, do you want to specify a bit for me, or should I just go through the list? Because I can, let's start with Sir Isaac Newton. Born in sixteen fort-"

"Lahey, I think. Really tall, blue eyes, could probably slit a throat with his jawline."

"Oh! I know him," Stiles looked as if he was in deep thought, scrunching his eyebrows together, "He's on the lacrosse team. He doesn't talk much, but nobody ever really thinks anything of it. His dad's a real hard ass at the games, if he goes, which is rare. Isaac doesn't get in much, but when he does, he usually does pretty well. One time he got knocked down, and was down for about 2 seconds before his dad started yelling about how he was 'weak pussy that didn't deserve to be on the team.'"

"Wow, that's harsh," She thought back to how he had acted scared, like he wouldn't get her approval. It might've been because of his dad not really showing his own approval, that would have to be rough. Of course, she couldn't really ask him, how was she supposed to explain that she and Stiles had talked about him behind his back? It hadn't been in a negative light, but judging from his seemingly low confidence, he'd assume it was anyway. He was cute, though, and she wanted to know about him, whether he was willing at first or not.

* * *

**AN: **Sorry if it's a bit slow! I had to have a way to introduce the characters somehow! The action comes soon

Song used for the lyrics at the beginning is Infinity by the xx


	2. But We're So Happy

** AN: **Ahhh chapter 2! Thanks so much for all the love you guys have already given the story. It really encourages me to continue with the story

Enjoy!

* * *

_Celebrate the irony,_

_Everything is going wrong,_

_But we're so happy_

Fallon's eyes scanned over the crowd of teenagers herded within the stark white cafeteria walls. She searched from table to table looking for a place to sit. She usually sat with Stiles, they wouldn't talk much, she would read and he'd try to do some of his homework from his morning classes, but it was company, and she thoroughly enjoyed his presence.

Stiles had made up with Scott, so he decided to sit with him, Allison, Jackson, and Lydia to recover the friendship that had started to slip up a little bit. She didn't feel comfortable sitting with them, she had never had a real conversation with any of them. She had shared quick waves and smiles with Allison, who seemed sweet enough. She had asked Scott where Stiles was, exchanged some thoughts about lacrosse, but had never contacted each other for other reasons. She had discussed some literature with Lydia, who was actually very witty and intelligent, despite how many mean things people said about her. As far as Jackson went, she wasn't even sure he knew she existed.

Her eyes caught on to a boy with his chin to his chest, sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria near the trash cans, alone. She decided that if she sat on the other end of the table, she could eat her brown bag lunch and avoid awkward small talk with the curly haired boy. Fallon walked over to the table, treading lightly on the tile floor. She began opening up her bag, when she noticed his eyes landing on her, using her peripheral vision.

"Sorry, there was nowhere else t-" She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow. "Isaac? Hey!" She let the tension in her muscles relax, now that she recognized the lone boy.

"Hello," Isaac gave a barely there smile, and nodded towards her, making his curls bounce and dance.

"You're usually sitting with Stiles." It was his turn to cock his head to the side, licking his chapped lips.

"Yes, well, Stiles is sitting with _Scott _today, so I decided to sit with you. Is that okay?" She raised an eyebrow and brought her knee up to sit cross legged on the bench attached to the table.

"Yeah, of course!" He grinned at her, the first genuine smile she'd seen him pull. She began biting into her apple, and she made note of him looking at the notebook she cradled in her lap, with a pink pen tucked inside of the spiral.

"What's that notebook? I see you carry it around a lot." He rested his chin on the heels of both of his hands, looking as if he was thoroughly curious as to what her notebook contained. She had never shown anybody what was inside, nobody had ever cared enough to ask.

"It's, um, stuff I wrote. Poems, stories, you know. There's even a few pages of, just, one or two sentences I jotted down, but never turned into anything." She looked up at him, gnawing on her bottom lip. Nobody knew that she liked to write, maybe her English teacher that had praised her for some of her essays assumed she wrote a bit outside of the mandatory essays about the War of 1812 or Edgar Allen Poe, but it wasn't something she was comfortable to share. But here she was, telling it to the strange boy she had barely even had a conversation with.

"Who's your favorite poet?" He looked at her with an eager passion in his eyes, chewing on his thumb nail, patiently waiting for her reply.

"Hm," She hummed a short beat and began playing with the silver ring on her thumb. "I like Richard Siken… Sylvia Plath, too. Yeah, I like those two the most I guess."

He nodded at her, glancing down at the food displayed in front of him. He fluttered his eyes closed before beginning.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. I think I made you up inside my head. The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, and arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed and sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. I think I made you up inside my head." He opened his eyes and gave a hesitant smile, still looking down at the tabletop in front of him.

"That's my favorite of hers," She reached over the table and placed a single finger onto his wrist. He didn't flinch this time, but she notice goosebumps rise on his skin, making the blonde hairs on his forearm stand. He began to speak again, but the bell dismissing them from lunch interrupted his thoughts. They both stood from the bench simultaneously.

She looked at him, going over his facial features. The way his cheek bones jutted out, causing a curve between them and his jawbone. His jawbone was sharp as a knife, but the playfulness in his eyes and gentle nature made him look soft, youthful, fragile. She noticed the small cut in the center of his bruised lip.

* * *

Fallon only had the fridge open, in preparation of making herself some dinner, for a few quick seconds, before she heard someone stumble into her home, panting heavily.

"Stiles? What the hell?" She looked at the boy who was red in the face, sweat glistening on his forehead. He put his hands on his knees and doubled over, trying to fill his deprived lungs with much needed air.

"Sc-Scott… Scott… Scott's a-" He raised his hands to demonstrate claws, and made an exasperated hissing noise while bulging his eyes so much they nearly fell out of his head.

"Alright," she put her hands on Stiles' shoulders and pushed him into a sitting position on the red suede couch. "Chill out a little bit, then explain why you just broke into my house talking about Scott having… claws? Is that what you were trying to demonstrate?" He looked at her with a flabbergasted expression.

"I didn't break into your house, the door was unlocked. Which is actually really foolish, there's been a lot of murders around here, seriously, what were you thinking?" She rolled her eyes at his accusation, _he _was the one who had barged through the door sweating and heaving like he was running from the cops.

"Why are you here, Stiles?"

"Okay, you have to listen to me for a second. Scott and I were going through the woods a few nights ago, looking for the other half of that body that they-"

"Are you shitting me? Someone gets ripped in half and you two thinks it's a good idea to walk around the forest in the dark? Seriously?" Stiles waved his hands in a manic manner and licked his lips nervously.

"I said to _listen _to me. We ended up getting separated while on the hunt for the other half, and Scott ends up getting bitten by something, neither of us know-" Fallon's eyes widened and she leaned forward.

"Bitten? Are you serious? That's why you don't walk around the damn woods at night, Jesus Christ."

"_Again _with the interrupting? Shut up and listen, please and thanks. So Scott fell behind because he had to take a few hits from his inhaler. I saw the squad cars and I ran up, but one of the police dogs smelled me and my dad made me go home. I said Scott was at home, so nobody knew he was even _there_. So yesterday he came up to me, and shows me this giant bloody wound on his side. It's covered in gauze and tape and whatever, but I could still see blood coming from it," He waved his hands again, demonstrating how serious the matter was. "He _claims _it was a wolf, he thinks he heard one howling, but there haven't been wolves in California in _60 years._" Fallon nodded her head quickly and clasped her hands together. Stiles took a deep breath and continued with his story.

"So we're at practice, and here comes Scott catching all the balls that were thrown at him. Like, superhuman abilities." She cocked her eyebrow at this statement. "When's the last time Scott was really, really good at lacrosse? Yeah, that's right, never. He comes up to me and starts talking about hearing things, smelling things he shouldn't be able to. He could smell the Mint Mojito gum in my pocket."

"That's been in your pocket for like, 6 months."

"Yeah, yeah I know, leave me alone. We're going through the woods, looking for Scott's inhaler, and we showed up at Derek Hale's house." Fallon's eyes widened and she made an audible intake of air.

"Yes, Derek whose family burnt up in a house fire Derek. He throws Scott's inhaler at us and walks away. Now get this: Forensic evidence on the body shows that a _wolf _attacked it."

"That's impossible, though. Isn't it?"

"I thought so too. Now at lacrosse practice, Scott is bobbing and weaving and back flipping and actually _making goals. _He made first line! Can you believe that?"

"Now why exactly are you _here?_" This sounded like a Scott and Stiles problem to her, and she was confused as to why Stiles had so worriedly ran into her house. Stiles pulls out his iPhone from his pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through a few pages.

"Look at this." He shows her an article about Lycanthropy, another about wolfsbane, and old sketches of people with wolf heads.

"Werewolves? God, grow up. I thought you were serious about this whole thing. I'm hungry." Fallon pushes herself from off of the couch and begins walking away before Stiles desperately grabs her hand and silently begs her with a pleading expression across his face.

"Please, just listen to me, I'm serious. I think Scott might be in trouble. I think we all might be. He's on this way to this party with Allison. We need to go, _now._"

* * *

Fallon and Stiles pulled up to the large house in his powder blue jeep, Stiles unbuckling his seat belt before the car was even in park. There were teenagers stumbling in and out of the front door, holding red cups and slinging an arm over whoever they were with. Right as Stiles pulled on the car door lever to get out, he saw Scott running and jumping into his own car, starting it, and driving away. Without Allison.

The brunette girl soon came out of the party too, and got into the car with a man, she couldn't see his face or any distinguishing features, but she assumed he was male because of his size and demeanor. Stiles slammed the car door shut.

"Do you know who that was?" He looked at her with his brown eyes wide open, mouth slightly ajar.

"No clue," before she could finish her statement Stiles answered for her.

"That was Derek Hale! Derek, Hale!" He gripped the steering wheel and began yanking it forward.

"Drive to Allison's, now." Stiles stepped on the gas right after I got my last syllable out. The car jerked forward, nearly crashing into someone's Mercedes, before he backed up and sped down the street in the direction of the Argent's house. I checked my phone, the bright fluorescent light illuminating my surroundings.

(1) Missed Call from Mom

(4) Text Messages from Mom

She stuck her phone into her jacket pocket, trying to formulate an excuse as to why she was gone.

_Mom, we were out hunting werewolves, normal stuff, geez, leave me alone, _probably wouldn't cut it.

She looked over at her brown eyed, Adderall ridden, best friend. There was fear in his eyes. The mere thought that something bad would happen to Allison, even though he didn't like her all that much, terrified him. His best friend loved her, and knowing Stiles, he wants the best for everybody, especially those close to him. Especially Scott. They fought a lot, this was true, but she knew they needed each other. People had compared them to Batman and Robin, but they were nothing like that. Not even close. They were equals. They were Bonnie & Clyde, Cheech & Chong, they were the Blues Brothers. They weren't sidekicks to each other. They each benefited each other, were there for each other, whenever they needed them. She reached over and rested her hand on Stiles' shaking forearm.

"Everything's going to be okay, Stiles. Everything. It's all going to work out, you don't need to worry about this. We'll check on Allison, and then we'll check on Scott. And then _you_ need to get home and sleep. You look like a zombie, man." She heard a whispery giggle escape past his trembling lips, but he quickly placed his mouth into a thin line. He pulled into Allison's driveway.

"I'll stay in the car, you go and make sure everything's alright." Fallon gave him an encouraging smile, urging him to go up to the entrance. She decided to stay in the car as to avoid any awkward conversations she'd inevitably have when visiting a stranger's house for the first time.

The car locks clicked as Stiles walked up to the house, and she chuckled to herself at his protectiveness. She reached back into the back seat, grabbing onto Stiles' lacrosse jacket he always kept in his car. Fallon slipped it over her, feeling the fuzzy interior of it. She wrapped it across her torso, and snuggled her nose and chin into it.

She was glad she had Stiles. She could always count on him, no matter what, and they'd do everything together. But her favorite days were when they did nothing at all, they'd stay at home, with popcorn and candy and an abundance of blankets, watching movies, and only leaving the couch for bathroom breaks. She'd only been in Beacon Hills for less than 8 months, but Stiles had been the best friend she'd ever had. Even the Sheriff was close to her heart. He trusted her in protecting his son, and she was honored to be given the duty. Plus, he was hilarious, and they'd often make jokes to each other while she'd wait in the Stilinski's living room for Stiles.

* * *

About five minutes passed before he came jogging up to the car, unlocking it, and sliding swiftly in the driver's seat.

"I'm going to drop you off at home, and then I'm checking on Scott. Allison was in there. _Unharmed._"

"So Derek really was doing a good deed huh?" Stiles nodded, she could tell he was relieved. "Maybe he isn't as bad as you guys make him out to be."

Stiles reared his head back and made a _cluck_ noise in the back of his throat. He always made that noise instead of rolling his eyes.

As they pulled out of the driveway, the rain started to softly pitter patter on the car windows, blurring the streetlights into one big smear of bleached yellow. They'd only driven a couple miles before they saw someone walking, their arms crossed over their chest as a shield from the rain and cold temperature.

"Stiles! That's Scott!"

Stiles stepped on the gas and rolled down the window, shouting Scott's name.

"Scott! Yo Scott! Scott! Oh for God's sake, Scott!" Scott's head turned toward the Jeep, his black hair sticking down to his forehead from the moisture. Stiles pointed with his thumb to the backseat, indicating for Scott to go in there instead. I flipped on the heater.

"Hey buddy, I've been lookin' all over for ya!" Stiles gripped Scott's shoulder with his hand and shook him gently, smiling the big Stiles grin Fallon had grown to love. "Why the hell are you shirtless?"

"D-Derek… Derek is the one…" Scott's teeth chattered together, making it hard to understand clearly what he was saying. A shiver went through Scott, and he fidgeted because of the chill down his spine.

"Derek is the one who… bit… bit me." I jerked my head into Stiles' direction.

"Derek is also the one who took Allison home."

* * *

"I was worried _sick _about you and you can't even come up with a reasonable explanation?" Fallon's mom paced around the kitchen floor, dragging her fingertips along the countertop. She noticed her mother had put her wedding ring back on.

"I was at a party with Stiles. Nothing happened! We didn't drink or do drugs or anything. We didn't even step _into _the party. We were driving around most of the time." It wasn't a total lie.

Her mother leaned onto the counter, put her face into her hands, and rubbed her tired eyes. The hospital was working her extra shifts and she was achieving noticeable bags under her eyes. She knew that Stiles was a reliable kid, and that if anything had really happened, she'd get a call from the Sherriff.

"I'm going to bed. I advise you to do the same." Fallon's mother groggily walked up the steps and into her bedroom. She waited to her the door click shut before taking out her phone and texting Stiles.

**Mom's good. Told her we were driving around all night. Scott okay?**

I received a text a few moments later:

** He's okay knowing Allison's okay. He'll need to talk to Derek soon**

I responded with:

** Definitely. Goodnight Stilinski**

He replied back with:

**Goodnight Fawwonnn**

* * *

Stripping down to her underwear, Fallon crawled into the light gray duvet on her bed. She wrapped herself up in it, like a cocoon. Squeezing her eyelids so tight they were crinkly and sore, she hoped and wished and begged that in the morning she'd wake up to be a beautiful butterfly that wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. Especially werewolves.

* * *

**AN: **There ya go! Little bit of action is starting to happen! S/O to my girl Sylvia Plath

Song at the beginning is _Let's Dance to Joy Division _by The Wombats


	3. Waste

**AN: **Sorry I'm trash and took so long to update. Thank you for the lovely compliments, I hope you like this chapter!

* * *

_I know if you could snap both your fingers that you'd escape with me,_

_But in the meantime, I'll just wait here and listen to you when you speak,_

_Or scream_

She gently rubbed the cool Neosporin ointment on the small slit on Isaac's cheek. Fallon made sure to just barely brush his skin, taking warning from the purple and yellow bruise dangerously close to his eye. Every time she'd ask about the new injury that suddenly came up, she would get hit with the same response.

"Lacrosse practice."

"You really need to start being careful, my Neosporin is running out." She gave him a small smile, like a mother would give her child after kissing their scraped knee, or one a nurse would give after bandaging someone's open wound. Isaac gave a shaky laugh, and reached his hand over to clutch his bicep. The hem of his navy blue henley shirt raised a bit, revealing more dark markings along his torso.

* * *

Hey Stiles," Fallon held out the i, making her sound like she was up to something no good. "Did you guys have morning practice today?"

"Morning practice on a Monday? I am almost completely positive that you have lost all of your brain cells." Stiles ran his hand through his already ruffled hair and continued jotting down his notes in his short, sloppy handwriting.

"Yeah, I had a feeling," She chewed on the end of her pen, looking ahead at the blackboard, and then up to the ticking clock. It was the last period before Chemistry, where she could see Isaac. The boy had grown on her, his mild demeanor, and charming, although rare, smile. They didn't interact other than her asking him about the new scrapes and bruises on his face, once at lunch, and during the few classes they had together. While a lot of the time he was quiet and she often initiated conversation, there had been moments where he'd chuckle and roar his head back, or he'd jump up and down excitedly. He was spontaneous, and often unpredictable, and she loved that about him. She made plans to sit with him at lunch to help him with some of his English homework, he'd nervously come up to her a few days ago, rubbing his hair with a shaky hand. Isaac had a C in English, and when he had told her that it looked like he was scared that he'd be struck across the face. Fallon had reassured him that a C was nothing to worry about, and agreed to help him with his work.

They decided to sit in the bleachers on the lacrosse field, barely anyone ate their lunch out there, so it would be quiet enough for them to work. Plus, Fallon loved autumn time, and wanted to spend as much time as possible basking in the crisp air and falling leaves. Her boots crunched against the leaves as she made her way across the field, she spotted Isaac at the very top of the bleachers, his arms over his chest, anxiously looking at his surroundings. She plopped down right beside him, her body facing towards him, sitting cross legged. Waving rapidly while giving a goofy cartoon character grin, the boy seemed to loosen up a bit. She waved her hand, signaling him to hand his red folder full of notes, worksheets, and information from English Class.

"Okay," Her delicate fingers flipped through the wrinkled pages. "Oh! I didn't realize you were doing Catcher in the Rye," Fallon was in an advanced placement English class, her only AP course, so she wasn't sure what the other kids were doing.

"This is my favorite book," She always loved the way it was written, the repetition in Holden's use of the word phonies, and the way that was no real plot to it, it was a story of a lonely boy. She had read the entire book in one day. He looked up at her, the ends of his long sleeves bunched into the palm of his hands.

"Alright," She chewed on her bottom lip as she began circling words on a worksheet. "Basically, you need to make a character map," She began drawing a web of circles, connecting them with straight lines using her pen, making quick flicking motions with her wrist.

"You need to write his name here," She wrote 'Holden Caulfield' in the middle circle. "And then you use the rest of these bubbles. Remember, Holden is a really horny superficial teenager who's been kicked out of four schools." Isaac gave a hearty laugh, tilting his head back and then immediately shaking his hair with his right hand.

* * *

Fallon reached over to Isaac's sheet of notes written in black ink, and drew a flower beside the word 'Antacid' using her own _pink _ink. He shifted his eyes over to hear, and she gave a small shrug and smile.

"Your notes were boring." He laughed, which prompted her to continue doodling flowers all over his sheet of paper for the rest of the period.

* * *

"It's Monday." Stiles grabbed onto Fallon's index finger and began jogging towards his car, his red backpack bouncing up and down as he went.

When the pair arrived at In 'n' Out Burger, they ordered their food, and then sat in Stiles' jeep. They always ate their food in the parking lot, because they liked to avoid all of the Beacon Hills students that swarmed the interior of the restaurant.

"So," Stiles began, 5 or 6 fries hanging out of his mouth, "How's Isaac?" He chewed them up quickly and then audibly swallowed them.

"What do you mean?" He took a gulp of his milkshake before speaking again.

"I mean, you're always staring at him and stuff. And you get all giggly and smiley when he's around. It's repulsing." Fallon rolled her eyes at his accusation, and swallowed a bite of her burger. Eager to change the topic from Isaac, she decided to follow up with her own question.

"What about wolf boy?"

"Well he almost ripped my throat out, but other than that he's great." Fallon jolted forward, her curly hair bouncing as she widened her eyes to the size of Lady Gaga's in the Bad Romance video.

"He _what_?"

"Lacrosse practice. His wolfiness started coming out, like, I mean, eyes glowing and everything. He ran to the locker room, so I ran after him, you know, being a good friend and all. I walk in on him in full-fledged werewolf costume, weird hair growing from his face, yellow eyes, dirty claws that _really_ need trimmed growing out of his fingertips."

"How are you not ripped to pieces right now?" Fallon asked incredulously, curious as to how Stiles' intestines weren't hanging out of his stomach.

"Sprayed him with a fire extinguisher, you know, the usual self-defense routine against mythical beasts."

"Aren't really a myth if your best friend is one of 'em," She blew air out of her mouth after she spoke, realizing the meaning of what she had just said. Scott was a werewolf. He was bitten by one too, meaning there is undoubtedly 2 existing werewolves in Beacon Hills. There was probably more, more in Beacon Hills, more in Northern California, more in the United States, more in other countries. And if werewolves existed, who knows what other kinds of creatures did too?

"Thank you for the lovely reminder, I appreciate it."

"I'm just saying, if werewolves exist, who knows what other types of things exist? Beacon Hills is like the horror version of Middle Earth or Hogwarts or something." Fallon shook around her chocolate milkshake, trying to get every last drop of it.

"Yeah except there's no Sauron or Gandalf or Voldemort or Dumbledore." Stiles shook his head around and sprang up in his seat.

"That we know of."

* * *

Fallon was lying on her bed, her dark hair sprawled around her like a crown, her dainty, tanned, legs crossed over on another. Because of the crazy stuff that had been happening, she never had much time to relax like she used to. After finding out werewolves exist, and finding out her best friend's best friend was one, there wasn't much time to be calm. It was almost impossible. Every single thought was being consumed by this darkness, this looming thought that things weren't okay and they were only going to get worse. Her life was no longer watching Netflix and getting fast food with Stiles. It was something more chaotic. She felt her phone buzz against her bare thigh, and she scrambled to get to it, tangling her small limbs as she went.

**That body on Derek's property? Wolf. Derek told Scott not to play in the lacrosse game tomorrow and we went to confront him about the murder. Scott smelled a dead body so we went back and dug it up. Rope around it. Laced with purple flowers. Scott got sick from em**

Opening her silver, sticker clad laptop up, Fallon shakily typed in "purple flowers werewolf poison" and was shocked to find so many results. She unlocked her phone and sent a message to Stiles.

**Wolfsbane. Rope was probably wrapped around the body to keep it from changing… is Scott playing tomorrow?**

A few moments went by before she received a response.

**Yes.**

* * *

Fallon shoved her freezing hands deeper into the pockets of her vintage leather jacket as the cold fall night wind blew across her face, turning her cheeks and nose a light shade of pink. A certain red head waved to her as she climbed up the bleachers, plopping right beside her, and flipping her long, wavy hair over her shoulder. Fallon raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"What? I wasn't sitting alone." Lydia pursed her lips and shook her head, as if it was obvious why she was sitting with her. The game began and the team rushed onto the field. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Scott, and when she made eye contact with Stiles, they each shared a worried look. As she continued looking, she spotted Isaac in his #14 jersey, towering over the rest of his teammates because of his height. When Jackson came sprinting on, Lydia sprang up and cheered, clapping her pale hands together. She waved her lilac polished fingers in his direction.

Every so often, Stiles would glance at Fallon, scrunching his dark brows together. Fallon was focused on Scott, making sure his wolf instincts weren't provoked by the intensity of the match, but every so often her eyes would shift over to Isaac, sitting on the bench beside Stiles. Even though he had only been in the game for a few seconds, the sweat on the back of his neck made his small curls stick to his glistening skin. When he leaned forward, she could see the definition in his back, the shape of his muscles peeking through his crimson red jersey.

"Excuse me?" Fallon whipped her head up, to be faced with a wide eyed Lydia.

"I _said,_ do you want to go to a party afterwards?" Lydia rolled her eyes, and smacked her pink glossed lips together.

"I-I don't think I can… Sorry." Fallon stumbled on her words, she had barely ever talked to Lydia, and she couldn't help but feel odd about the situation. Lydia sighed and rolled her eyes again, adjusting the green hairband placed in her fiery hair.

"God, I'm not that scary. You read good books and have cute clothes and stuff. We could be friends if you weren't such an antisocial moth." Fallon chewed on her lip in concentration on her response, but her attention was directed towards the field as she saw Lydia with her month hung agape, her eyes locked on what was ahead of her. Scott had knocked down all the players on the field, and continued sprinting towards the locker room, going abnormally fast. Fallon jumped forward, running down the bleachers as the hollow metal clanged and echoed as she stomped. She grabbed ahold of Stiles, shaking him in frustration.

"What the hell is happening to Scott?"

"I don't know, he, he got mad and his eyes glowed and he began running and…" Stiles trailed off, fear obvious in his eyes. Fallon began running in Scott's direction, clutching onto Stiles' clammy hand. They pushed through the double doors in unison, calling out Scott's name as they looked through the boys' locker room.

"God it's disgusting in here," Fallon scrunched her freckled nose at the stench of the room, the smell of trashy axe body spray trying to cover up sweat and body odor was not a pleasant one. She turned the corner, her finger tips tracing along the cool, red painted, metal exterior of the lockers. A distraught Scott was sitting on the ground, his back against the cement brick wall, his head in his hands.

"Scott?" He looked up at Fallon, his brown eyes locking with her green ones. "Oh thank God I thought you'd rip my throat out." Fallon sighed in relief, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans and leaning back against lockers. Scott chuckled, but she could tell it wasn't genuine. It was dismal, it was like the sun was trying to peek through dark storm clouds, but it was no use. Scott wasn't Scott. He couldn't be ever again.

"Buddy!" She watched as Stiles hugged Scott, even if he was now a horror movie monster, Stiles would always be there for him. They had a certain bond that was impenetrable, and it was comforting to know that there friendships like that in the world. Scott glanced past Stiles' shoulder, and gave Fallon a knowing smile.

* * *

It was a Sunday, which meant Fallon was free to do as she pleased. Her mom always worked on Sundays, so she had the house all to herself. She had woken up around 2 pm, took a shower, and ate a bowl of cereal with so much extra sugar in it, it made her teeth hurt. Fallon usually took this day to watch scary movies while snuggled into the couch, or to read, or to surf through the internet, mindlessly ogling at weirdly artistic photos and interviews of her favorite celebrities. But that all seemed drab now, like it was unworthy of her attention, because of what was now going on in the actual real world. People were dying. And now, it wasn't just in warzones and third world countries, it was in her own background. Every step she took was battleground, and people she went to _school_ with were becoming bigger and bigger parts of it. She'd always wondered how characters in movies where there was a zombie apocalypse, or the third world war, always seemed so calm. How could they be calm? Their house was burning down, their husband was turning into a blood thirsty zombie! But she finally got it. They weren't calm, not in the slightest. They were in shock, they were frozen, they couldn't move. They didn't know how to move, or where to move to. If they walked too far into the unknown, they could step on a landmine. That's exactly what Fallon was doing. Delving too deep into the unknown. Nothing made sense. A text from Stiles interrupted her looming thoughts.

**The body was Derek's sister. He was released from holding because there's evidence an animal killed her**

And it sure as hell wasn't a mountain lion.

* * *

Fallon wrapped a black scarf around her neck and slipped into her white converse low tops. Hoping that some much needed caffeine would clear her mind, she decided to walk to a nearby coffee shop. It was a hole in the wall, Beacon Hills was the definition of a small town, but she loved it anyway. The large windows looking out onto the street, the soft piano music playing in the background while the whispers and quiet chatter of the customers created a comforting murmur throughout the restaurant. It wasn't anything fancy, wooden chairs and tables, and standard coffee and tea beverages were sold at a reasonably low price. Fallon pushed open the glass door of the building, the bells creating a small chime. She softly padded up to the counter and ordered a small caramel macchiato, her favorite drink. The tables were almost completely empty, apart from a few business men and women typing away on their Macs while sipping from their Styrofoam cupped cappuccinos. Digging through the black back flopping against her stomach, she fished for the right amount of change, placed it on the counter, and took her steaming cup of coffee into both hands.

"Can I sit here?" She smiled at Isaac, who was sitting at a booth table laboring over papers and textbooks messily strewn in front of him. He smiled back and waved his hand over to the seat in front of him.

"Whatcha doing?" Fallon giggled and took a hearty sip of her drink, but scrunched her face and stuck her tongue out after it so very brutally singed her tastebuds.

"Homework," Isaac kept his eyes on the paper he was scribbling on, and Fallon couldn't help but notice how long his eyelashes were. His lips stuck out in an innocent pout, and it was one of the only times she had seen them without being split. Fallon slid her cup over to him, his response being a confused look.

"Drink… it…" She pushed it further towards him. He didn't have a cup in front of him, and she could tell he was sleepy, probably having been there all day intently working on what seemed to be his English homework. Isaac always had the look about him where if he had a proper place to rest, he'd be asleep in minutes. He always had dark circles around his eyes, even when they weren't bruised and battered, and sometimes he'd flutter his eyelashes to a close and hold it there a couple seconds before opening them wide again. His eyes were a pale blue, and they'd always reminded her of blue sapphire. They were surrounded by curly brown eyelashes, which you could always see for the most part, but when the sun shined on them, they lightened and sparkled like hay laced with gold. His lips bashfully closed around the rim of the white cup as he tipped it back.

"Thanks," He set it down and began scribbling down notes again, squinting his eyes in pure concentration. Fallon danced her fingertips around the table tops, onto the container of sugar packets, onto the napkin holder, and then back to her lap. She never knew what to say to Isaac. It was if one small misstep could break him. It wasn't as if he was fragile, or broken, but as if certain things could drive him away completely. It was like walking on broken glass around him, and Fallon desperately wanted to get past the walls he seemed to have put up. She never saw him with anybody, it was like people didn't even realize he existed. Even though Isaac's on the lacrosse team, even Stiles was unsure about him.

"Hey Isaac?" He looked up at her, making a small humming noise in the back of his throat, still holding his pen in his long fingers.

"Do you want to hang out sometime?" It was her turn to be sheepish, as she looked down into her coffee cup and traced her finger around the damp, curled rim.

"I… I guess," Isaac leaned back in his chair and formed his lips into a small o, blowing hot air between them.

"You say that like it's a question," Fallon smiled and chewed on the inside of her cheek, breaking small bits of skin of and waltzing with them with her tongue. She peeked up at him through her mascara coated eyelashes.

"I don't know, no one's really asked me that before, I'm not sure how to respond," He gave a quiet laugh as Fallon leaned over the table and snatched the pen placed between his fingers. She jotted a series of numbers down on a napkin, and slid it over to him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Isaac," She slid from out of the booth and pushed the door open into the windy streets, leaving her half empty coffee cup in Isaac's possession. As she rounded the corner walking home, her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was an unknown number, and she unlocked her phone to read the message the mystery person had sent her.

**:) **

She knew exactly who it was.

* * *

**AN:** EEEEEE okay I hope you liked it! Lots of Isaac/Fallon and some Stiles/Fallon and Lydia/Fallon woowee okay!

Song used is Waste by Foster the People.

The outfit I imagined Fallon wearing at the coffee shop is .compost/45536283185/untitled-1044-by-beautifulele anor jane-featuring

Let me know if you guys want me to put outfits after the story I don't want to be annoying but if you guys like it, it kind of helps you envision her outfit

Also can we talk about tonight's episode because holy shit? As if Lydia couldn't get any better she's a BANSHEE OKAY and Ms. Blake's fate wasn't surprising at all. Also all the Stiles/Sheriff moments made me want to rip my hair out GOD. Like Derek thinks his life is shitty because of Cora in the hospital wait til he finds out about Jennifer geezy cow. Also Scott/Lydia is a thing and it is a very cute thing (Although not as cute as Stydia ok SORRY) and I swear to god if Allison/Isaac become a thing I will rip my hair out because no

Sorry I have a lot of feelings about tonight's episode it was one of my favorites honestly

Let me know if ya liked the chapter and what ya did or didn't like :)


	4. There is a Light That Never Goes Out

**TW: Self mutilation**

* * *

_Take me out tonight,_

_Oh take me anywhere, I don't care,_

_I don't care, I don't care,_

_Driving in your car,_

_I never never want to go home,_

_Because I haven't got one_

Fallon's fork slid into the crust of the fresh apple pie sitting in front of her. The fork hit against the stark white ceramic plate the dessert so tastefully sat on. There was a small scoop of vanilla ice cream beside it, but you couldn't tell because seconds before she had suffocated it and the slice of pie in whipped cream.

"Is that really necessary?" Isaac pointed his own fork at her plate, and lowered his eyebrow. She had made him go to Aunt Mae's diner with her, it was a Friday night and it was somewhat of a tradition for Fallon. The trip was usually made alone, but she didn't mind having Isaac accompany her just this once. They'd bonded over Aunt Mae's pie when they first met each other, so she thought it would be a good idea for the first time they hung out apart from school. They both were dressed casually, Isaac in a purple t shirt and dark jeans, and Fallon in a white, loose fitting, plush sweater and black jeans. A necklace with a lion head pendant dangled around her neck, and Isaac watched as it swung around and caught the light of the fluorescent bulbs hanging from the ceiling. She had been wearing it the day they met, and she never took it off.

"Yes, it is necessary," Fallon took a bite of her pie and scrunched her face as she did so. Another bite went into her mouth, this time consisting of nothing but whipped cream.

"Isaac, why the hell is there no whip cream on your pie? It's the best part!" She jumped up and down giddily in her seat as she reached her hand for the red tin can of Reddi Whip.

"Oh, no… Oh no, no… No, no!" A gust of air rushed out of Isaac's mouth as he sat back, defeated, watching Fallon almost murder his pie with whipped cream.

"You didn't have to do that," Isaac stated, giving Fallon a stern look. When he stuck his finger in his whipped cream, she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I think I did."

* * *

"So you killed her?" Fallon struggled to keep up with Scott and Stiles as they rushed through the doors of their school. Stiles had driven her to school, which meant she was stuck with both him and Scott until first period. Scott had been ranting about a dream where he went total wolfman and killed Allison in the school bus.

"What I don't understand is why you were dreaming about school? Of all the things…" Fallon spoke up for the first time on the matter, and Stiles pointed at her and nodded in agreement.

"That's not the point! I've never had a dream like that. I woke up all sweaty and panting," Scott stated and you could see the look of worry in his eye. His bottom lip was trembling, but Stiles had obviously failed to notice.

"Oh, I have, they usually end differently though." Fallon raised her tiny hand to slap Stiles chest.

"Please never give me that much information of you in bed again."

"Noted."

Fallon had somehow ended up walking beside Stiles, rather than lagging behind the two of them. When they rounded the corner, all three of them had stopped in their tracks. Their eyes widened and their jaws went slack, and Stiles desperately searched for Fallon's hand.

* * *

"I heard it was a cougar," Danny stated, looking at everybody seated at the table.

"I heard it was a mountain lion." Jackson rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his white cashmere sweater clad chest.

"A cougar _is _a mountain lion," Lydia retorted, but when Jackson gave her a confused look she quickly covered up her tracks, "Isn't it?" Lydia was a teenage genius prodigy, but because of Jackson's thick skull, he never realized just how smart she was. Lydia had said something about not wanting him to feel "inferior."

Fallon had sat with Lydia, Stiles, Scott, Jackson, and Danny at lunch today. It definitely was not on her list of things to do, but Stiles had nearly dropped to his knees and begged her, not wanting to have to put up with his longtime crush obsessing over her boyfriend or his longtime best friend completely enamored with his new girlfriend. She glanced over to the far side of the cafeteria, but didn't see any signs of Isaac, which was a bit bittersweet for her. On one hand, she was glad she didn't have to ditch him, and on the other, it meant she'd be alone in Mr. Harris' already unbearable class.

Allison was fine, much to Scott's relief, but it ended up that the bus driver was attacked inside of the bus late last night. It was nearly crushed in half, paint adorning the sides and windows. Scott didn't know what had happened, and spent the entire day fretting over whether or not he'd sent the poor old man to the ER. Honestly, Fallon couldn't stand anymore talk of what was happening around town. Fallon, Stiles, Scott, and Derek Hale seemed to be the only ones aware of why the hell everyone was dying.

Her ring decorated hand reached over to Danny's tray, picked a French fry from it, and popped it between her lip balm slathered lips.

"I'm outtie."

"Where are you going?" Stiles rose from his seat and called after her, and she shrugged in response. If she went to the nurse and complained about a migraine, she'd be sent home no questions asked. While her chronic headaches sucked the life out of her, they were an easy way out of situations she had no desire to be in. That included Chemistry without her partner she'd grown quite fond of, lycanthropy talk, and her third wheeling between Scott and Stiles. The nurse looked at her suspiciously when Fallon walked into her office, so she acted dizzy and fell against the doorway, clutching onto the metal frame and dropping her chin into her chest. Ms. Cooper gave her a pink slip, and slapped it into Fallon's hand.

* * *

Fallon was never one to take baths. You were just sitting in your own filthy water anyway, and taking a shower to wash away her troubles seemed much more appealing than letting them soak into your blood stream. But every once in a while, she'd take a bath. She liked to hold her head under water, and see how long she could hold her breath before her lungs caught fire and she was near suffocation. Her hair would float around her, like a crown of spilt chocolate, and miniscule bubbles would come out of her mouth. It relaxed her and terrified her at the same time. Once it became too much for her to bear, she gripped the cold sides of the tub and pulled herself up.

Her fingertips traced the horizontal scars along her thighs, silvery and pink and holding their own memories that flashed in her head each time she touched one.

_"Worthless, worthless. You're worthless. You're nothing. Just do it. Get it over with." The sharp metal end of the blade slid across her skin, and she watched as crimson red rose to the surface. It dripped down her leg in singular drops, leaving a bloody trail in its wake._

_"Worthless… so, goddamn, worthless." She kept telling herself this, she kept taking the blade to her skin. She couldn't stop. She couldn't. She deserved this. She deserved all of this._

To anybody else, they'd be invisible, unless she pointed right to them. But to her, they were so blatantly there and they haunted her with every move she made. She took the wash cloth floating around the water and scrubbed her thigh. She scrubbed and scrubbed, hoping the iridescent marks would come clean off and she'd open the drain and they'd float down it, and they'd finally leave her alone. Her skin was raw and pink, the fabric of the cloth burned, and she tasted saltwater against her lips. Her skin itched. It was if she was being eaten alive by bugs, gnawing at her skin, pulling on her hair. Her head rang with violent thoughts, the voice in her head telling her how pathetic she was because of this. No one could ever love such a damaged girl. No one.

* * *

Fallon's face lit up when she saw who was standing beside her. He twisted the knob on the lock, and swung open his locker, before speaking to her.

"Hello," Isaac smiled, cradling his binders and textbooks against his chest. There was a crescent moon shaped purple mark around his eye, starting at the end of his eyebrow and going to his cheekbone.

"Hey!" Fallon chirped, picking skin from her lip using her teeth.

"Ditch with me today?" Fallon looked hopeful, although she was honestly not expecting Isaac to give the answer he did.

"Sure." Fallon beamed at his answer, and took his book from his hands and shoved them into his locker.

"First rule of skipping class, never do it too often to preserve the amazing feeling of not being at school." Fallon hopped along the sidewalk, holding onto Isaac's forearm as she walked. The wind blew around them, swirling leaves around and pushing her hair back.

"There's rules to skipping school?" Fallon ignored him and continue going down the list.

"Rule number two, do something worth your time. Don't sleep all day."

"That is definitely not a rule," Isaac mumbled this, but it was loud enough for her to hear.

"Rule number three…"  
"Rule number three is that you're a loser."

"No," Fallon wagged her finger in front of Isaac's face. "Rule number three: French fries." And just like that, Fallon and Isaac were sat in a tiny sandwich shop with a giant basket of fries between the two of them. Fallon would take two, sometimes three, fries at a time and dip them into ranch dressing.

"Still can't believe you dip your fries in ranch instead of ketchup," Isaac looked at her accusingly, while eating his _ketchup _dipped fries.

"Oh, give me a break, ketchup is boring, and it tastes like salt water." She took a sip of coke, and batted her eyelashes at him. Her favorite moments with Isaac were when they'd tease each other, and poke fun at each other's mannerisms. They both admired each other so much, really, but neither of them felt comfortable enough to let the other know. The closest they could get to sharing their adoration was playfully bullying each other.

"So what's next? We did fries and now we…" Isaac clasped his hands together and looked at her expectantly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Now, we go to my house."

* * *

Her hands traced the spines of the DVDs stacked on her shelf, furrowing her brow and contemplating the best movie to watch. Ferris Bueller's Day Off seemed too cheesy.

"These vinyls are…"

"Super lame?" Fallon grinned, looking at Isaac as he shifted through her cardboard box full of vinyl records she had begun collecting when she was 12.

"Super _cool!_ I mean, you have In the Aeroplane Over the Sea! And Dark Side of the Moon!" Isaac bounced on the balls of his feet as he flipped the Neutral Milk Hotel album to look at the back cover.

"Thanks," Fallon chewed on the inside of her cheek, "But can you _please _help me pick a movie?"

Isaac stumbled over to her and plopped onto the carpeted floor beside her. He looked on in concentration before pulling a movie out.

"Wise choice, mi amigo."

* * *

The two of them were all but five minutes into Rob Zombie's Halloween remake, before Fallon got up from her seat on the couch. She came back a few moments later with a large quilt in her hands, her fragile arms barely holding it up. She draped it over the two of them, and she sat next to Isaac, but closer this time. Isaac looked over at her, her hair having been pulled into a bun on the top of her head, and counted the wispy hairs that had fallen and were framing her face. Her hand thudded against his chest, and she whispered:  
"Watch the movie!" Fallon smiled at him, before crawling on top of his lap. Her back was against the armrest, and her legs lazily laid across his thighs. When he squinted his eyes at her, she just smiled and waved in response. Every time Fallon knew there'd be blood, she'd crouch into Isaac's chest, pressing her cheek against him. She could feel the throb of his heartbeat quicken, and she thought it was because he was scared. Isaac was the only one that knew that his heart almost leapt out of his chest every time she got closer to him. Every time she'd flutter her eyelashes, or tap her thumb, or tilt her head back. Every time she'd push her hair behind her ear, or giggle, or so much as say his name, he couldn't help but feel as if that was the only thing that was real. Everything else was an illusion, but Fallon, Fallon was real. Her cheeks would flush, and her teeth would chatter, and her hair would get frizzy when it rained. Sometimes her sweater was so big that it would slip off of her shoulder, and sometimes her lips would tremble. But she was everything he could ever imagine.

That was it, though, that was the problem. He could imagine her, but he'd never kiss her or be able to say he loved her or meet her mom. The overwhelming fear of her never loving him crept over him and filled his brain with a thick cloud of smoke. Of course, he didn't know that she felt the exact same way about him.

* * *

"Where are we going?" After Isaac had left, another brunette boy had showed up at her doorstep, and dragged her into his Jeep along with Scott.

"We're going to school."

"Oh, sounds fun, such a great time! I always love it there they have the _best_ food." Fallon rolled her eyes and leaned back in the passenger seat.

"Derek told us to come here. So Scott can remember whether or not he, you know, _killed a man!_"

"Whatever, whatever," She waved her hand around and held back a yawn. She was completely over all of this werewolf stuff. Scott wasn't even one of her good friends, but she had been dragged into it because Stiles _is_.

"You guys stay in here." Scott opened the car door, with Stiles in pursuit.

"Why does it feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin?" Stiles waved his hands frantically before running them through his hair.

"What?" Scott scrunched his face up, so Fallon pulled Stiles to the Jeep before _another _argument rose between the two of them.

"Neither one of you are Batman or Robin, okay?" Fallon whispered into Stiles ear in a soothing tone, the combination of her soft voice and warm breath calming him down.

* * *

"Hello?" Fallon spoke into her cell phone, a worried look on her face. He never called her, especially at 2 AM.

"Can you hear me? Hello?" She spoke again, urgency in her tone, she knew something bad was happening. The pit in her stomach seemed endless, and she could feel her heart start to fall down into it.

"Please… help me, Fallon, help me, he, he won't stop, I can't fix it, I can't do it," His voice was trembling and crackling, and she could almost hear the pain laced into his tone.

"Isaac? What's wrong?"

* * *

**AN: **I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG I LOVE YOU

Okay, so this chapter I wanted to focus a little bit more on Fallon's interaction with herself rather than with others. More about this will be coming soon!

Also stuff actually happened with Fallon/Isaac woah? Don't expect them to become "official" anytime soon though, that ain't how I work homie

I have no clue when the next chapter will be up. Tomorrow my brother is having a grad party, and Sunday is my dad's birthday, so I have no clue when I'll be able to sit down and write. Plus, I don't want to force myself to write too much because I know if I'm not really feeling it then it will be so bad, and I'll feel bad because it wasn't quality.

Yeah okay

Song at the beginning is There is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths


	5. Holocene

**AN:** I was so bad about updating this, geez I'm sorry! Also, on my profile there are pictures of a girl. That is how I imagine Fallon to look. So, if you wanna know there ya go, or if you'd rather just imagine her in your head, that's cool too. :)

* * *

_Saying nothing, that's enough for me._

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent,_

_Hulled far from the highway aisle,_

_Jagged vacance, thick with ice_

_I could see for miles, miles, miles_

* * *

"Isaac, I'm coming. Wait outside for me, I, I can pick you up, okay? Isaac, can you hear me?" On the other end of the phone was an incoherent Isaac, who was gasping between words and sounded as if he was heaving every so often. The obnoxiously vibrant red letters on her alarm clock screamed that it was 2 AM, and Fallon rubbed her clammy hand through her sleep-tangled hair. Her car keys clattered together as she grabbed them from the dish on her bedside table, and she blindly felt for the car key through the various rewards cards and house keys on the metal loop. The pen shook slightly in her hand as she wrote a note telling her mother her whereabouts, she was "helping a friend," which wasn't entirely false, though she had no idea what was happening with Isaac.

Her car started with a silent roar, the frame of the car vibrating underneath her boot covered feet. Considering she had just woken up, Fallon looked like she had just survived a natural disaster. Her already naturally tangled hair was now a nest, mascara had rubbed off around her eyes, and she was wearing outrageously baggy sweatpants, a thin white t shirt, and her Doc Martens she had subconsciously slipped on on her way out of the door. If Isaac had ever been attracted to her, it was definitely going to be crushed once he saw her tonight.

The car crept up onto the street, idling between Isaac's humble home and Jackson's large and lavish house. Her hands had just grasped onto her cellphone before she heard a desperate knocking on her window. Realizing who it was, she rushed to unlock the car doors so the visibly shaken boy could get in. Once he was in and his seatbelt was buckled, she pressed the gas pedal, launching them forward.

"Where are we going?" Fallon asked her question with understanding eyes. She wasn't going to ask him what had happened. She figured that if he wanted to tell her, he would, but for now she was content with driving him somewhere where he'd feel safe and sound.

"Um," His fingers intertwined clumsily. "Can we go to the cliffs?" Fallon nodded, keeping her eyes on the road and not his bleeding knuckles. The cliffs was a spot on the northern end of Beacon Hills, if you drove to the top you could see the lights of Beacon Hills and its surrounding cities. Not many people went up there, but Fallon had discovered it when she went exploring around the town when she had first arrived.

Her feet hit the ground with a small thud, and she clutched the quilt she always kept in the backseat of her truck against her chest. Isaac padded through the packed dirt, walking towards the end of the truck to face Fallon. He cocked his eyebrow in confusion when she began climbing into the bed of the truck.

"Well, are you coming or not?" Her thin hand reached out to grab his larger one, trying to pull him up, but it was no use considering he was much bigger than her.

"So," Fallon trailed off, spreading the quilt around their legs as their spines connected with the side of the truck.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late and you have no idea what's even fucking wrong with me and we aren't even that close and we've only hung out a few times and it was stupid of me to ask you to pick me up so late and-"

"I came didn't I?" Fallon gave him a cool smirk, implying that everything he just said was irrelevant. He had called, she had picked him up, and here they were. Her hand searched for his, and she held tightly onto his index finger.

"Yeah, you did," Isaac leaned back. "But why?"

"Because we're friends. That's what we do." She nestled her hair into the space between his shoulder and his head, making it so every time she breathed her lips would touch his neck, leaving goosebumps all over his pale skin. Isaac couldn't believe this. They were friends. He had somebody there for him, and not only was she one of the sweetest people he'd ever met, but she was funny, and intelligent, and beautiful. Even now, with her sleep ridden eyes, and her tired body and creaky bones.

"My butt hurts." Fallon let out an exasperated sigh, before getting on her knees to reach into the open window peeking into the backseat.

"Woah, woah, woah," Before she could get her jacket out of the seat, Isaac had wrapped his lean arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap.

"I could sit on my jacket instead of crushing you under my weight, you know?" It was more of a rhetorical question, because she put both of his hands into her lap, and leaned into his torso. She breathed him in, he smelled like clean laundry and cinnamon, and she could feel the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat. They stayed like that for hours, sitting in silence as they took in each other's presence.

* * *

"Why the hell would you think you could just _leave _the house? At 2 AM? Are you completely nuts?" Fallon listened as her mother scolded her, but nothing could make her feel guilty about the morning they had shared together. He hadn't told her what was wrong, but she could tell that sitting there had benefited both of them. The air was cool, but Isaac's body wrapped around hers made her feel like she was lying by a furnace. There had been a moment where his fingers had slipped under the waistband of her sweatpants, his calloused fingers leaving chills down her body. Isaac was there. He was living and breathing and sometimes realizing that left Fallon's throat constricted. There was this boy, tall and lanky and clumsy, with a beating heart and fluttering eyelids and trembling lips. She wanted to grab him and kiss him and hold him, and realizing this made Fallon feel weaker than she had ever felt. She knew that if she got to close to him, she'd end up hurting him. And that was a possibility that made Fallon's stomach drop. But for now, she wanted to be his shelter, even if only for a little bit.

* * *

"What do you mean Allison's aunt shot you?" Fallon looked incredulously at Derek, clutching his arm and swaying slightly to the left.

"I mean, she shot me. And I'm not healing."

"What, with like, a silver bullet?" Derek just scowled at Stiles' ignorant response.

"Just call Scott."

It was nearly an hour before a sweating Scott came barreling into the room. He held a small, not silver, bullet in his hand. Derek's hairy knuckles snatched it from his palm, before twisting it open and pouring out the dusty substance from inside.

"Give me a lighter." Scott grabbed a BIC lighter from his back pocket, sliding it on the top of the metal table and over to Derek.

"Why do you have a lighter?" Scott shrugged in response to Stiles' question. Derek held the flame to the powder, successfully catching it on fire. It burned for a few moments before it fizzled out, and at this point Derek pushed it forcefully into his open wound. Fallon leaned into Stiles' chest, her throat bobbing. But, it worked, which saved them all from having to cut off Derek's arm.

* * *

Fallon's fingernails lingered over the spines of the DVD's in the rental store. She was searching for some type of indie rom com she could drown in. There was a tub of Ben & Jerry's in her freezer she had bought earlier in preparation, and she was already dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

There was a crash near the front of the store, and Fallon's sneakers hastily tiptoed towards the end of the aisle. Her hand flew up to her mouth when she spotted the store clerk lying on the ground, mangle and bloody. Stinging tears began to flood her eyes, and the sudden realization that whatever had attacked the employee was most likely still around knocked the wind out of her lungs. Before she could process the thought of sprinting to her car, her body was knocked into the air, eventually crashing into the large glass window at the front of the store. Her head bounced off of the pavement underneath her, and her skull felt as if it was collapsing in on itself. She clawed at the pavement, struggling to push herself up off of the ground. Warm liquid dripped down the side of her head, and there was a prickling sensation going up her arms. Looking down, she realized that shards of glass, some big, some small, were stuck into her arms, and her white t-shirt was soaked with crimson. A large shadowy figure looked at her with glowing red eyes, his body roughly the size of her truck.

Red lights flashed behind her closed eyelids, and the blaring sirens filled her aching eardrums. When she opened her eyes, a man, most likely in his 30's, was preparing to lift her body onto the stretcher.

"What's happening to me?" Her words came out cloudy and slurred together, and when she spoke her head pounded as if it was being folded in half. The man just chuckled and didn't say anything, laying a sheet over the lower half of her body.

"Fallon!" Stiles rushed over to her as they began sliding her into the back of the ambulance.

"Mm, Stiles?" She waved her hand through the air, and Stiles grabbed it without hesitation.

"Oh, my god. Oh my god. Oh, my, god, what happened?" She had her eyes closed, but she could feel Stiles whipping his head around, looking over the crime scene. Glass was shattered, little pieces of it littered around the parking lot, the store was pitch black, and there was a small pool of blood where Fallon had landed.

* * *

The patterned beeps of her heart monitor were not exactly what Fallon wanted to hear when she woke up. The scratchy material of the hospital gown scraped against her bare skin, and the smell of baby powder and urine filled her nostrils. Hospitals were never one of Fallon's favorite things, and being admitted _into _the hospital was even further down the list. When she groaned audibly, Stiles jumped up from the chair beside her bed.

"Fallon!" Stiles attempted to bear hug her, but her hisses of pain stopped him from damaging her further. She could feel the stitches across her abdomen stretch as she struggled to inhale. Oxygen tubes were stuck into her nose, and an IV dripping a clear liquid was attached to her wrist. Her hospital room was stark and white like most, but beside her was a vase with bright yellow flowers sticking out of it.

"Water," Fallon demanded, although her mouth was dry it just sounded like she was croaking like a frog. Stiles rushed over to her, holding a paper cup filled to the brim with water. After she had chugged it down, she felt as if her throat was clear enough to speak properly.

"Who are those flowers from?"

"That kid Isaac. He stopped by yesterday." Before she could question about his visit further, Scott stumbled through the doorway carrying a tray with Jello, apple juice, a sandwich, and a small pastry.

"Scott's here?" She raised her eyebrow at Stiles. She and Scott were never that close, and while they were friendly towards each other, she didn't think he'd be bringing her food in the hospital.

"Yes, I am!" Scott beamed at her, ignoring her confused expression. "You're awake!"

"I… am. How long was I _not _awake?" Her hands trembled as she brought one half of the sandwich to her lips.

"A few days, like, 3 or so."

"**_Three?_**" Fallon nearly choked on her bite of the food.

"Yeah. But, hey, look at you now! You look great!" Fallon was less than assured, so she stumbled oh so elegantly to the mirror in the small bathroom in the room. She was appalled at her reflection. Her hair was matted together, her face covered in purple and yellow. Her green eyes had turned a dull shade of gray, and the circles around her eyes suggested she had been awake for three days straight, not asleep.

* * *

"What'd you see?"

"A mountain lion. For the fifth time." Fallon smacked her lips together as the cop in front of her scribbled onto his notepad.

"Thanks." She nodded her head curtly before turning to Stiles and Scott.

"Was it really a mountain lion?"

"Unless mountain lions are the size of a truck and have glowing red eyes, then no."

* * *

**AN: **Okie dokie. As it progresses, I'm gonna stray off a bit more with the plot, because this isn't just me rewriting Teen Wolf with an extra character. Some stuff I'll leave out, some I'll add in. Also, I'm going to kind of hightail it through season 1 because I have some plans for season 2 I really want to get to.

Please leave reviews, I read them all and take them into consideration while writing, and they motivate me to keep up with the story. I get so excited when I get reviews, whether they're positive OR negative. Plus, feel free to message me on my tumblr (link is on my profile) concerning the story or if ya just wanna know who's behind it. :)

This chapter's song was Holocene by Bon Iver. I imagined it playing throughout the story, but especially at the beginning with Isaac/Fallon.

Thank you!


	6. Rabbit Heart

**AN: **AKA the Night School episode woo!

* * *

_This is a gift, it comes with a price_

_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?_

_Midas is king and he holds me so tight,_

_And turns me to gold in the sunlight_

* * *

"Alright, black, or purple?"

"Neither. You'll look like a bruise." Lydia rolled her eyes at Fallon's snarky comment before putting both dresses back into her closet.

"Not helping!" Lydia exclaimed, flipping her curled fiery hair across her shoulder.

"Wear green. You look good in green." Fallon's finger scrolled across the screen off her phone, her head resting against the decorative pillow on Lydia's bed.

"No, _you_ look good in green. _I _look like a slice of watermelon." A small laugh escaped from Fallon's lips, earning a nearly evil glare from Lydia. Before she could complain about finding the perfect "seductive, yet classy," dress any further, her bare feet walked across the floor and to the closet. She pulled out a maroon tight fitting dress and a black blazer. Lydia scanned the dress a few times before humming in approval.

"It's not like you have to dress seductively anyway. It's Jackson. He'll think the sun shines out of your vagina no matter what."

"Yes, but will his parents?" Lydia shook her head slightly as she looked through her extensive collection of shoes.

"What are you going to do? Seduce his dad? You're _Lydia Martin_ for god's sake. You're a parent's wet dream." Lydia giggled as she pulled on a single black heel.

* * *

Fallon ran her skinny fingers through Stiles' tousled hair as his mouth moved rapidly.

"It's always Allison. What if my dad had died? Scott wouldn't have even cared because Allison had a cold or something."  
"If your dad had died, Scott would have been the first person in line at the funeral. After me, of course." She pushed him off her stomach, stretching her legs out before rolling off of the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To raid your kitchen." Before Stiles had enough time to react, Fallon was sprinting down the stairs and barreling towards the kitchen. As soon as she grabbed a box of blueberry Pop Tarts out of the pantry, Stiles was right beside her, panting heavily from running after her.

"You're out of brown sugar cinnamon ones." Her lips formed a pout so perfected, it gave actual toddlers a run for their money.

"That may be because you ate them all." Stiles folded his plaid decorated arms over his chest.

"Sheriff!" Fallon hugged the sheriff's waist as he pushed the front door open, kicking his shoes off as he went.

"Fallon, my favorite soup maker." He was referring to the soup she had made the sheriff after being hit by a car in the school parking lot. Turns out a mountain lion had come after the parent teacher conferences, and while Scott was busy protecting Allison, Sheriff had been hit by a car, hence why Stiles was so angry with Scott. Luckily, Chris Argent had shot it before it could cause too much damage.

"Well of course, anything for a man serving the fabulous town of Beacon Hills as well as you." Fallon saluted him jokingly before walking over to put two Pop Tarts into the toaster.

"Especially during the invasion of the mountain lions." Fallon shared a concerned look with Stiles, but gave a contradicting breathy laugh to the sheriff. He was completely oblivious as to what was actually happening, and the healing wounds on Fallon's abdomen were definitely not made by a mountain lion. Whenever she asked Stiles whether he'd tell his dad about Scott and the others, he'd quickly change the subject and look everywhere in the room but her. Of course, she couldn't blame him. She hadn't told her mother either, but her mom wasn't the head of police in town, and while she didn't want to push Stiles to do something he didn't want, she couldn't help but wonder if it'd make things a lot easier.

* * *

Hopping into the backseat of Stiles' Jeep, Fallon's shin banged the frame of the car.

"Shit," She muttered under her breath so that it was barely audible, but she had a feeling Scott's hearing had picked up on it.

"Where are we going?" Her hand rubbed over the forming bump on her leg. Expecting Stiles to explain, she instead heard Scott's voice.

"Derek thinks Deaton, my boss, is the alpha. We need to go to the school to prove he isn't."

"But what if he is the alpha?"

"He's not, _okay?!_" Scott's seat jolted backwards against her knees as Scott turned to give her a hateful glare. His eyes glowed a slight tint of yellow, and she could have sworn she saw sharp canine like teeth come down from his jaw.

"Scott, calm down, okay? She has a point." Stiles gingerly placed his hand on Scott's shoulder blade, causing him to turn around and finally relax in his seat.

When they pulled into the artificially lit parking lot of BHHS, Fallon spotted a black Chevy Camaro with a matching Derek Hale leaning against the driver's side door.

"So what's the plan?" Derek averted his eyes from her gaze as he spoke with a raspy, biting tone.

"We lure the real alpha here." Scott squared his shoulders in front of Derek.

"Woah, woah, woah, what? Listen, I'm not here on a suicide mission. _I'm _no part of this whole wolf fiasco, and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me away from the bloodshed." Everyone seemed to ignore Fallon's worried protests, except for Stiles, who looped his pinky around hers.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Derek shoved his hands further into the pockets of his leather jacket, taking a single step forwards towards the trio.

"Just watch me." Scott began jogging towards the double doors of the school, Stiles following, dragging Fallon because of their interlocked fingers. The crew stopped in the main office, Scott's hands confidently grabbing the intercom microphone. Pushing down the talk button, Scott attempted to howl. They thought.

"That sounds like a dying cat. Or moose." Fallon couldn't help but giggle at Stiles' comment, but her vocal cords immediately cut off when Scott's eyes coldly stared at her.

"Just, just try again, Scott. You can do it." And he did. What came next was a howl, a growl, and a roar all rolled into one ear drum shattering burrito. Chills blanketed Fallon's skin, amazed at how the boy had produced such a sound. It was nearly demonic, and she would have been terrified had she not known who was behind it.

* * *

"Where's Deaton?" All four of them looked around the parking lot. After Scott had growled, they ran out to check with Derek, and much to all of their surprise, Dr. Deaton had disappeared from the back of Derek's car. Before Derek could open his mouth to gloat about how he was right, the same beast that had terrorized Fallon at the video rental store appeared, looming behind Derek. It was nearly twice the height of Derek, and undoubtedly twice his width. Fallon gripped onto Stiles' shirt, bunching it into her now clammy palms. She could've sworn that the wolf recognized her, analyzing her into its brain, calculating his plan for her.

The alpha's claw pierced into Derek's back, raising him up into the air as black blood poured from Derek's mouth. The alpha's skin was rubbery and black, covered in sporadic wisps of black hair, his ribcage poking through the surface. He bared his teeth, which were almost yellow with black surrounding the edges, and they jutted out of his mouth in sharp and jagged forms. His eyes were the same color red as the numbers on Fallon's digital alarm clock, and they were just as fluorescent and glowing, if not more. A guttural growl came from his throat.

"Fallon! Let's go!" Stiles tried tugging on Fallon's hand, but she was frozen in place, like the soles of her shoes were cemented into the blacktop. Her eyes were stinging, her ears ringing, blocking out Stiles' pleads. Eventually, it was Scott that had pushed her towards the school, the sheer force of his strength snapping her out of whatever trance the alpha had put her in.

Scott's back slid against the doors once they were inside of the school, Stiles and Scott both panting heavily. Fallon, however, barely made any noise at all. Her eyes were wide, staring down at the palms of her violently shaking hands. She made tiny footsteps down the hall, her knees threatening to buckle under her and drop her. This wasn't happening.

This couldn't be happening. And as long as Fallon could convince herself that this was all some sick, twisted dream, she'd be okay. Scott and Stiles eyes pierced into her back, she could physically feel their stares stabbing her backside. Her moccasin boots made no sound against the hard floors of the hallway, and she silently praised herself for wearing shoes that would stay on her feet while running.

Which is what they did when they heard a large bang against the door. This time, Fallon immediately began moving her feet, not wanting to waste any time. She was going to make it out of here alive.

Stiles hand gripped her wrist, pulling her along with them. A feeling of dread began brewing inside of her stomach. She had never seen Stiles or Scott so _scared_, and now they both seemed to be near tears. Glass shattering could be heard in several places.

"Locker room, there's barely any windows!" It was Fallon's turn to lead. She held onto both of the boys', leading them to the boys' locker room.

"Be quiet," Fallon's voice barely came above a whisper as she shoved them each into different lockers.

"Everything's going to be okay." While she hoped that her words would reassure the two boys, it was more of a word of encouragement for herself. She curled her hands into fists to avoid them from trembling so much they hit against the metal box she was currently hiding in. Her breath caught in the middle of her throat when she heard footsteps gradually getting closer. Gripping the lacrosse stick beside her, her hand gave the least amount of pressure against the door as possible, her toes curling over the edge of the locker. Raising the lacrosse stick above her head, she slowly tiptoed around the edge of the corridor, expecting a large bloodthirsty beast to greet her. Instead, she was met with the innocent brown eyes of an old man in a janitor's suit, wielding a mop and bucket.

"Get out!" She fiercely whispered to the man, hoping to usher him out without having to give a detailed explanation.

"What? What are you doing here? Get out! Go home! Why are you here? I'll have you know I have-" Fallon's hand clasping over his mouth caused him to stop speaking. His voice was only a tiny octave below yelling, and she was sure that the alpha had heard him scolding her. Scott and Stiles rounded the corner, urgency in their eyes. The janitor began speaking again until the alpha did finally come for them, creating a gaping hole in the wall and door of the locker room. Before the old man could question what was happening, the alpha gripped him, took a bite from the left side of his body, and threw him across the room. Fallon had barely enough time to register what was happening when Scott grabbed her forearm and tugged her forward. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she sprinted behind the other two teenagers.

And that's exactly what it was. They were threatening her. But she knew in her heart somewhere that she wasn't weak, and even if she was, now was not the time to display it. Now, now, she was strong, and she was going to fight. Even if it killed her.

Scott's head whipped to the side, and Fallon couldn't help but giggle at how _dog _like it was.

"Allison's phone."

"What?"

"Allison's phone. I hear it."

"You've memorized her ringtone?" Scott waved his hand through the air as he crept in the hallway.

"Stiles, give me your phone." Stiles slapped his phone into the palm of Scott's hand without question. When Scott dialed Allison's number, a loud ringing sound echoed through the hallway.

They found themselves in the lobby of the school, facing a wide eyed Allison, a bored looking Lydia, and an emotionless Jackson.

"Scott?" Allison hissed through her teeth, looking her boyfriend up and down.

"Listen, you guys need to leave, like, right now." Scott pointed his finger towards the ground, a small hint of dominance in his voice.

"You texted me to come here, though?" Allison handed her phone over to Scott, the screen displaying a message telling her to come to the school.

"No, I didn't."

"Well then who di-" Before Allison could finish her statement, a loud crash sounded and debris rained from the ceiling.

"We need to go, now."

* * *

The group of now six found themselves heaving and panting in a circle in the chemistry lab.

"We need to call the police." Lydia crossed her arms over her chest, poking her tongue through her cheek.

"Leave my dad out of this." Fallon grabbed Stiles arm and pulled him to the corner of Mr. Harris' classroom.

"Stiles," Her vocal cords were shivering and she was afraid that they'd stop working any minute now. "There is _something _out there. Something out there that is trying to kill us. Your dad may be the only one who can help us. Please." For what seemed like the billionth time that night, tears welled up in the corners of Fallon's forest green eyes. Her nerves were displayed by the dilation of her pupils, and Stiles couldn't help but sigh in submission.

"She _hung up on me. That bitch hung up on me!"_ Lydia's voice was intense with anger.

"What do you mean they hung up on you?" Jackson spoke for what seemed like the first time in a long time. She could tell his jaw was clenched, and his index finger tapped against his bicep.

"I _mean _somebody called them and said that there were going to be prank calls coming from a bunch of teenagers about the school."

"The fire escape." Stiles looked like a deer in headlights as he realized that the school had a fire escape.

"We need the key. We need the key." Stiles frantically ran his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth across the classroom.

"And where is this key?" Jackson leaned against Mr. Harris' desk, causing a pencil to roll off the edge.

"The janitor." Stiles, Scott, and Fallon all shared an awestruck look. They were the only ones who knew he was dead, and they were the only ones who knew where he might be.

"I'll go get the key."

"What? Are you crazy?" Allison rushed over to Scott, placing a hand on each of his biceps.

"I'll get the key." He brushed past her, giving a small nod towards Stiles.

"You should take a weapon." Fallon knew he didn't need one, he had ten of them right at his fingertips, but it would seem less suspicious and she knew it would relax Allison just a tiny bit.

"I can make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail." Lydia looked down at her nails as she spoke.

"Everything I'll need should be in here." Her thumb pointed to the cabinet labeled materials in the back of the classroom.

"Oh, my god. Lydia, I love you!" Fallon squeezed Lydia in a tight embrace.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know." Lydia gave a tiny smirk as she opened the metal cabinet. Fallon helped Lydia mix the fire bomb, making sure to triple and sometimes quadruple check which chemicals were which. After they were done, Lydia carefully set it down on the countertop.

"There. Now, all you need to do is throw it. Simple as that."

* * *

The paramedic roughly held onto Fallon's bicep, shining a flashlight into her eyes.

"I'm fine! Let me go!" Fallon pushed past the EMT worker to walk over to Stiles' Jeep. It seemed as if the whole town of Beacon Hills had circled around the parking lot of the high school. Everyone except Fallon's mother.

"Can I have a ride home?" Fallon chewed on her lip after she asked her question. She didn't want to burden Stiles any more than she already had that night, but Stiles seemed joyous that she asked him.

To say the drive to Fallon's house was awkward would be an understatement. Fallon repeatedly looked down at her phone, unlocking it, refreshing instagram, and then locking it again. She looked out of the window, and watched as the streetlights blurred together, and how they reflected off of puddles of rainwater in potholes by the road.

"I'm sorry." It was Stiles who broke the silence.

"For what?" Fallon played with the ring on her thumb.

"For dragging you into this shit. Really. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even asked you to come with us, it was stupid." Fallon wrapped her fingers around Stiles' forearm, pulling it a fraction of an inch closer to her, and resting her head on it.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay…" Her words drifted off as she fluttered her eyes closed.

* * *

Fallon was woken up by the buzzing of her phone underneath her stomach. She looked at the clock, realizing that it's 4:17 AM. Cool.

**Knock knock! Who's there? Daisy. Daisy who? DAISY ME ROLLIN DEY HATIN**

The words were blurry under her sleep clouded eyes, but she could read them clearly and she let out a loud giggle. She responded back with:

**Goodnight Isaac :) **

Fallon had tried to fall back asleep after that, but every time she closed her eyes, it would glow red.

* * *

**AN: **I apologize for the lack of Isaac in this chapter. I'll make sure to make the next one extra sweet and fluffy

I don't know about this chapter. It is probably my least favorite so far which sucks because Night School is such a cool episode. I don't know. Leave me your opinions though, I absolutely LOVE hearing them, positive or negative :)

Title song is Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) by Florence + the Machine

Honestly I can see Florence + the Machine playing at anytime throughout this fic and Teen Wolf in general like the music is so fitting

Anywho, thanks for reading :))


	7. Ride

**_tw: abuse_**

* * *

_I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy, _

_I'm tired of driving 'til I see stars in my eyes,_

_It's all I've got to keep myself sane, baby,_

_So I just ride, I just ride_

* * *

Her hand swung off of the merry go round, the tips of her fingers soaking up the dew collecting on the cold blades of grass.

"Do you ever feel like life's going too fast?"

"I can stop spinning it if you want." A small laugh escaped Fallon's lips at his comment.

"No, silly, I just mean," A sharp intake of air stung through her throat.

"Sometimes everything's all blurry. And I'm not sure what's actually happening, I can never get any of the details, because it's just going by so fast." Isaac focused on her as she spoke, memorizing the way her lips moved and how all of her freckles were chaotically organized.

"It's like a dream. You know how in dreams, you can rarely see someone's face? You know it's there, but you're not actually sure what they really look like." Isaac nodded his head, but remained quiet as she talked. He didn't want to interrupt her train of thought. He could tell she was digging really deep in the recesses of her mind by the way she picked at her thumb, and how she kept playing with the same strand of dark brown hair.

"I used to have this dream," There was a lump in her throat, a sharp one, and it felt like it was stabbing her esophagus.

"I used to have this dream where there was a man. And, the man, he'd um, he'd crack his knuckles." She tried to laugh at her words. Saying it out loud to someone made it seem so juvenile, but in her mind it terrified her.

"And he'd crack his knuckles, and then he'd put his hands around my throat, and," Her hands were shaking and she could feel the air start to escape from her lungs. Isaac said nothing, but he grabbed her hands and pulled her into his lap. His hands lay on her torso, playing with the hem of his own navy blue hoodie that she was currently wearing.

"He'd press down. He'd squeeze and squeeze, and the entire time, I wasn't focused on living. I was focused on who he was. But I could never tell, all of his facial features blurred into this big mass of swirling color." She couldn't believe she was telling Isaac, but at the same time, she was so comfortable with sharing these intimate details of her life with him, how could she not? Sitting there, in the park with him, she felt better. For just a second she forgot she's almost died twice this week, or that werewolves exist, or that her mom had barely spoken to her in a month other than to scold her. Because, when she was with Isaac, those things weren't real. All she knew was him and her, sitting there, right there, in that moment. And she liked it that way.

"Isaac," Fallon looked up at him, making him aware of her breath against his jaw.

"Yeah?"

"I know you aren't getting those bruises from lacrosse practice." That was all she needed to say. Isaac's body tensed up, and his grip around her hand tightened.

"How?"

"I've seen your games. You won't play at all and the next day you show up with a bruise, you can't expect me to believe that." Her voice was barely above a whisper, causing the slight raspiness in her tone to be even bolder.

"But there's morning practices and stuff and-"

"Stop. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Just stop lying to me." Her eyelids closed, the membranes in her thin skin visible. Their hands were clasped together, and every few seconds Fallon would squeeze to let him know she was there.

* * *

When Isaac walked home that night, he was shocked to see the lamp on in the living room, signaling that his father had woken up from his drunken slumber he was in when Isaac left. He cringed at the thought of what was bound to come, and when he touched the doorknob it felt as if it were on fire, a sign that whatever was coming to him wasn't going to be pleasant. He pushed the door open, hoping maybe he could sneak past his dad and delay it until morning.

"Isaac, get your ass in here!" His father still sounded slightly drunk, slurring his words together.

"Y-yeah Dad?" Isaac held onto his thumb behind his back, trying to steady it from the intense shaking that was currently going through his entire skeletal system.

"Where the hell have you been?" Isaac's father clasped his hands together, twisting the palms together. There was a small glass and a half empty bottle of whiskey on the table besides the recliner where Mr. Lahey was previously sitting.

"I, uh, I went on, on a walk. Th-through the woods." Isaac nervously rubbed his hand against the back of his skin, stretching and pulling the skin until it stung.

"You expect me to believe that, son? Get your ass over here," Isaac waited a second, causing his father to get even angrier.

"I said get your ass over here!" Mr. Lahey pointed to the floor in front of him, and Isaac shyly walked over to face his father.

"Now you listen to me," Isaac could smell the alcohol contaminating his breath.

"If I ever, _ever, _fuckingcatch you sneaking out again, I will feed your ass to the wolves, do you hear me?" Before Isaac could respond, his father had slapped him across the face with such force it sent Isaac crashing to the ground. His father wasted no time before he kicked Isaac in the stomach, Isaac's vision blurring with tears as he felt the urge to vomit and to scream and to cry all at the same time. He placed his hands on the floor, preparing to lift himself up. His torso was off the ground until his father kicked him once again in the stomach, causing Isaac to collapse back onto the hard floor and curl into fetal position, facing away from his dad.

This gave the older Lahey the perfect angle to kick Isaac in the kidney, Isaac arching his back as his father repeatedly kicked him around like a soccer ball. Tears were pouring down Isaac's face, dripping off of his chin and staining his lips with the salty taste. His eyes caught sight of a framed picture on the mantle above the fireplace. It was one of him, his father, his older brother, and his mom.

"Get in the basement."

"D-dad please, I-I learned my lesson okay, I r-really did, I'll behave I pr-promise," Isaac begged, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. His father was relentless, picking Isaac up by the back of his shirt and dragging him down the wooden steps and into the basement.

* * *

Because of Scott's recent breakup with Allison, Stiles decided it'd be a good idea to steal some of his dad's Jack Daniels for some sort of pity party. Although she wasn't too pleased with the idea of the three of them, or at least Scott and Stiles, getting shit faced, she decided she'd go because she hadn't talked to them since the night they were at the school. They decided they'd take the little fiesta to Fallon's house, since her mom was working the night shift and wouldn't be home until around 7 am.

Despite her knowledge that the two boys would show up soon, she couldn't help but jump at the loud knock on the door. Every noise made had sounded like a window shattering, something crashing through a wall, or a violent roar. She ended up throwing her alarm clock against her bedroom wall because the glowing red had reminded her so much of the alpha's eyes, it had sent her into an anxiety attack. Something she was getting increasingly more familiar with as time passed.

Bare feet carefully tiptoeing across the hardwood floor and to the door, she opened it to a smiling Stiles and a sulking Scott.

"Ready to part-ay," Stiles waved the glass bottle of whiskey around in the air. Fallon grabbed both of the boys' hands and led them to the back patio, where a few cushioned chairs and cushioned swing were placed around a small fire pit.

"Alright, then," Fallon grabbed a few red cups and an unopened two liter of Coke.

"A woman that's prepared, I like it." Stiles wiggled his dark eyebrows at her in a comedic manner, causing a small giggle to slip past her lips. She glanced at Scott who had taken a seat on the swing, but was looking down at his hands in his lap. Skipping over to the swing, Fallon crashed down beside him, causing him to jerk his head up to look up at her.

"Hey, um, t-thanks for letting us, um, c-come over." Scott looked as if he was on the verge of tears already.

"Well of course!" She grabbed onto his shoulders, squeezing them gently, and coaxing a tiny smile out of Scott. The sun was setting, so Fallon took it as her cue to start the fire.

They had been sitting for a couple hours, both Scott and Fallon completely sober. Scott because of his fast supernatural metabolism, and Fallon because of her personal animosity for anything involving alcohol. She was reluctant to invite them over because she had never seen Scott drunk, and was unsure of what his behavior would be like, although now she didn't have to worry about it. Stiles' however, she was completely prepared for his drunken rants about Lydia, or the video game he can't beat, or some band that has "changed their sound so much they aren't even the same band, man." It was always quite the entertainment. Stiles laid his body across her cement tiled patio.

"Huh, dude, you know, she's just one girl. Out of, out of so many, there's so many other girls, in the sea."

"Fish in the sea." Scott said, his voice morose and uninterested.

"Fish? Why are you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. God, I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with strawberry blond hair, green eyes, five foot three…"

"Like Lydia?" Fallon piped up, seemingly the only one amused by Stiles' drunken manner.

"Yeah, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about, about… what was I talking about? Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink." Stiles held the bottle of brown liquid and waved it in front of Scott's sullen face.

"I don't want anymore."

"You're not drunk?"

"I'm not anything." Fallon's arm looped through Scott's, wiggling it slightly to get his attention. When he looked down at her, she smiled, and snuggled into his arm.

"Hey, maybe it's like maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know. Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf. Am I drunk?"

"You're wasted." Fallon giggled, but Scott's voice remained monotone as he spoke.

"Yeah! Come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse. That didn't make any sense." When Stiles ended his sentence, Fallon couldn't help but frown. She climbed down from her seat beside Scott, lying down on the ground beside Stiles and resting her head on his outstretched arm.

"Hey, Fallon, my favorite girl in the whole world. Like the entire universe, all the galaxies and stuff. Well you know, except, yeah."

"Yeah I know." Fallon glanced over at Stiles' face, his eyes were glazed over because of the alcohol. Every time he spoke like this about Lydia, it broke her heart a little bit. She loved Lydia, sure, but Lydia was so wrapped up in Jackson and climbing the social ladder to even really notice Stiles. Stiles was head over heels for a girl that barely acknowledged him, and it seemed to hurt Fallon more than anyone, including Stiles, because she knew he deserved someone who treated him like he was their whole world. Much like Allison treated Scott, even if they had broken up for the time being. Fallon's mind wandered back to Isaac, his calloused fingertips touching the smooth skin underneath her sweatpants' band the night she had picked him up in the middle of the night, and the way that he had blushed when she touched his hand. It was if Isaac's eyes only really lit up when she was around, and it gave her a fuzzy feeling throughout her entire body.

* * *

The next morning Fallon woke up to her alarm screeching, pulsating through her skull. A deep, guttural groan escaped Fallon's throat, her eyes glued shut with the crustiness of sleep. Her hand waved around in the air in an attempt to find her phone, and when she did, her eyes opened barely a millimeter to unlock it. She stretched her entire body, wiggling her back against the warmth of her mattress and comforter.

After about 15 minutes of stretching, yawning, and mindlessly playing Candy Crush on her phone, Fallon got up to shower, but ended up collapsing clumsily to the ground. Her butt landed with a thud on top of her phone, which vibrated a millisecond later. She reached underneath herself to get it, revealing a slightly worried text from Stiles.

**Full moon tonight. Y'all ready fo this? Nanana nana nananana nanana nananana**

Her thumbs fumbled quickly to respond:

**This isn't Space Jam jackass. Seriously tho what's the plan**

Her phone vibrated again when Stiles responded.

**Whips n chains ;) **

* * *

**AN: **When I said fluffy I actually meant angsty as hell

This is the third time I think? I've ended with a phone conversation wow okay redundant much? Idk I thought this was a good stopping point for it because when they lock Scott up it's gonna be intense and I'm really excited wow

I feel this chapter really developed not just her relationship with Stiles and Isaac, but also SCOTT I'M SO EXCITED TO WRITE ABOUT HER AND SCOTT I GOT BIG PLANS BIG BIG PLANS

I decided to hurry up and finish this in honor of the fricking finale and DANIEL TAKING OVER THE TWITTER HELLLL YEAH

Also I entered the Style Stiles competition thing 4 times so far ahahhaha and you best believe I'm gonna spam the hell out of that hashtag tomorrow wowee and I'm cutting my hair like Crystal Reed's tomorrow wow? everything happens so much

Oh also follow me on tumblr (beachgoth dot tumblr dot com) or send me messages or whatever bc it's so cool you guys are so cool I like talking to you guys

You know what else I like... reviews hehe :-)

Song of the chapter is Ride by Lana del Rey yeehaw


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